You Can Get There From Here
by AstaLaila
Summary: Ianto is just simply what Jack needs. But how did he become that. Key moments and small insights into the life and times of Ianto Jones.
1. Chapter 1

I DECLARE DISCLAIMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A/N: So just getting going on a series of moments in Ianto's life, fill ins and additions to my other stories as I work on them too. Updates for both this and He and Mr. Jones should be up soon.

* * *

Ianto had the faintest of memories of when he was about five years old. He could picture himself, a composite of all his childhood and baby pictures, a boy with too many golden-brown curls and too-short spaceship jim-jams after a recent growth spurt. It was Christmas Eve. And there was a fire warming them all. He had sat in front of it until it felt like his back was burning, and then he had escaped to the more bearable heat of the settee.

That was where their father sat, having just put in a film that he told them every year had been his favourite when he was a child. When they got older, all the kids would agree that it had probably still been his favourite then too. Ianto climbed, one knee up then his whole small, soft tummied body onto the space beside his father.

"Come here Yan." His father's hands lifted him up from beneath his arms and settled Ianto on his lap, wrapping an arm around him securely. His hands were large, long fingered and calloused at the tips. But always gentle. Ianto had let his head curl against his father's chest and took in the smell that was so familiar. Later, after his father was gone, he would feel a terrifyingly sad pull at his chest and stomach for months at the scent of cotton and wool and oiled wood.

"This was my favourite film when I was a lad your age." Ianto nodded, chewing on the end of his thumb. Not sucking on it, he had been firmly told to stop that at the age of three years and six months. But he was able to get away with a subtle gnaw still.

* * *

Aoife, finally in her nightgown with brushed, gapped teeth ran in and jumped on the couch. But he just reached out to her, ran a hand over her curls and patted the spot beside him. She didn't hesitate for a moment as she burrowed in, covering her legs with a spare pillow and absently wrapping her hand in the cloth of her father's jumper.

Ainsley smiled from her spot on the floor, hugging a pillow as she lay on her stomach.

"Just waiting for Lew?" She held the remote with an air of authority. She was fifteen now, old enough to be part of the grown up organization, but still young enough to be kitted up in pyjamas, her long hair in two trailing braids that threatened to dip in her mug of tea at times.

"I'm here." Lew appeared, lanky and always a bit bashful these days, with a plate of biscuits. "Go on then Ains." He placed the plate on the side table and sat down, leaning his back against the couch. His shoulder pressed against his father's leg, the closest contact and affection his adolescent pride would allow him. He barely ducked though, when his father reached over and messed his hair.

"I'm pressing play. Is everyone ready then?" Ainsley said, only a little imperiously.

"Go ahead." Iain smiled. He was a busy man, a husband, a friend, a brother. But above that, all those things, he would always have time for this. For them. As long as he was allowed it.


	2. Chapter 2

**In the weeks before Christmas. Late November.**

Five more steps. Four more. Three more steps. Two. Standing in front of him. Oh. That look in his eyes. He knew it. It said that Ianto didn't want to go home. Didn't want to be by himself. Didn't want to be a burden. Didn't want pity. Most of all didn't want anyone to know any of these things. But Jack knew them.

"Come here." Jack said. His elbow rose up to rest against Ianto's shoulder, hand moving to wrap around into the dark curls. "I need you. You know that."

He stared into Ianto's eyes.

"You don't have to say things like that. I'm not a girl."

"I'm well aware on that front." Jack breathed against his mouth and caught his lip between his teeth. Ianto felt his breathing hitch, his lungs compressing as he gave up breath for kissing back against Jack's insistence.

"I don't just want you." Jack murmured again. He kissed hotly, with a strange contrasting affection in the slow circles of his fingers against Ianto's neck. "I need you."

"Right now." Ianto couldn't help it. Couldn't help that sometimes he just felt unsure about himself, insecure about who he was and wasn't.

"Don't." Jack scolded him quietly, letting his eyes rake over the other man. He let his hands drift, sliding down the smooth fabric of Ianto's shirt, letting them settle on his hips. "Come here." He moved to his desk, turning the screen of his computer around, and then to the settee against the glass wall. Ianto followed him.

"Take off your shoes." Ianto frowned, but knelt down, untying the neat knots and loosening the laces. He wasn't just going to toe them off. They were placed side by side, evenly lined up underneath the table to the side. And it was if all their order had sapped Ianto of his formality on removal. Standing in socks and trousers and his shirt sleeves rolled up, Jack could sense a vulnerability Ianto hated, even in the bit of sock that had been pulled forwards past his toes in removing his shoes. Jack sat down on the settee.

"Any preference?" Ianto looked at the screen and saw Jack's video player up.

"No- I…"

"You need this. We both do." He grabbed a pillow and leant it against his legs. Ianto recognized the gesture innately, on levels of thought and emotion that traveled back farther than he had clear memories of. He sat on the edge of the cushions, and turned, laying himself down along the length of the seat, his head on the pillow. Fingers infiltrated, carding through his hair in a way that made his entire body hum with a familiar sense of comfort and caring. They paused only for a moment, followed by the subtle click of buttons on a wrist strap, touch returning as the images of the film began to climb the screen.

"Jack?" Ianto twisted to look into his eyes. Jack stared, and then bent down, pleased at Ianto's slight arching up towards him. He kissed him, but Ianto's eyes were still watching when they both pulled away. "What are we doing?"

"Only what feels right." Jack shifted to make himself more amenable, the pillow shifting slightly. Ianto stretched towards it, pushing himself closer to Jack.

"Does this feel right? Us still, when we aren't….." Ianto murmured.

"I've told you now at least twice. I need you Ianto. I don't just want you." He felt Ianto sigh, felt him grind his cheek against the pillow to find comfort. Felt him reach and wrap his hand in a gentle squeeze against Jack's knee.

Jack brushed the back of Ianto's neck with his thumb. Let his hand run down over shoulder and ribs and chest. His hand slipped between the thin overlap of the shirt front, resting with his thumb lying along the line of his breast bone. He could feel the heartbeat there. Could tell that Ianto was here. Could tell that everything was right. He wasn't really sure what it meant. But it felt like what he hadn't known, but did now. How it was supposed to feel. It felt right.


	3. Chapter 3

Ianto loved loved LOVED going to see music live.

It seemed strange that a quiet-seeming man would to such a degree search out the loudest activity to spend his free time at.

Lisa had laughed and bought herself earplugs so that she could go to with him, but would still be able to hear something other than ringing the next day. Ianto would shrug, smiling in a wide, free, unreasonably attractive way and say that he, unlike Lisa, worked in quiet archives and stacks all day anyways. And if he was drunk he would continue, holding onto her tightly, and whisper silly things into her ear as they moved together with the rhythm. Close enough that she could hear him through the foam pegs she had jammed in dramatically at the first sound of the drummer warming up. Things about how much he loved having her close. That he missed her during the days. How it didn't matter if he went deaf for his whole workday, because there wasn't anything worth hearing until he could hear her voice again, telling him from the doorway of the staff room to hurry his cute bum up because she was starving for some fish and chips.

He'd told her he loved her for the first time in one of these moments.

Mind, he'd thought he'd said it quietly enough that she wouldn't hear. Until her dark eyes were suddenly watery and she seemed rather embarrassed to be going soppy at this, of all times.

She never cried. That's what she'd said in response. And he smiled, because she knew that he knew it was a lie. He knew that she cried in her room, her head under her covers, when she got really frustrated. And she cried after they went and saw a documentary on the Rwandan genocide. Not in the theatre, no, of course not. But he'd noticed her getting quiet on the walk back to his, and then he'd found her crying into one of his hand towels in the bath. She cried when she burnt the supper she'd made for them on the second date. And cried more when she then told him it was two years on the day since her best friend from uni had passed away, killed herself. And stopped crying when he'd made her toast and ice cream for dinner instead, and did the dishes after she fell asleep on the couch midway through their film. And still asked her out for a third date the very next date.

She never cried at a live music show before though. Mind, Ianto, her Ianto had never told her that he loved her before.

But the music made Ianto bold for some reason.

He was never insecure at the shows, never jealous, never awkward.

And she loved to see him like that. And went to all the shows that he suggested, even when she forgot her earplugs and couldn't hear anything at work the next day. Except buzzing and the words Ianto had whispered to her.

* * *

Jack hadn't been surprised when he found out that Ianto loved live music. He was, however, surprised when Ianto asked him if he wanted to come with him that night. Surprised, and intrigued. So he'd said yes.

And when Ianto had returned after a quick pop around to his place to change, he'd thrown a jacket at Jack.

"Greatcoat won't work at the place we're going. Come on." Jack pulled the coat on and smiled.

"Hm. Love the coat." He grinned and followed after Ianto, who smiled to himself.

* * *

The bar was low, with stickers and posters on the walls and booths and darked-out windows. And the moment they stepped inside Jack knew that something had changed in Ianto.

He smiled and rubbed his hands together.

"This girl is brilliant." Jack shrugged, unfamiliar with her name. "I saw her last week at this little place in Swansea, and she said she'd be playing here tonight. Had to come."

Jack looked around.

"You know her?" He avoided Ianto's eyes.

He and Jack had kissed, really, actually kissed for the first time about a week ago, in the alcove of darkness outside the tourist office after Ianto had locked it up. Not for life saving or anything other than attraction and want.

"No, she just said in her set." He had order a pint for himself, and a glass of water for Jack, who hadn't drank around him at any point in the last six months… if ever, now that he thought about it. The guitar tuning strums stopped and the mic squealed for a moment before the girl, dark eyed and curving, announced her name and her musical support behind, before launching into the first song. By the time Jack looked back, Ianto had gulped down his pint and placed the glass back on the bar.

"You want anymore?" Jack glanced down at his half glass of water.

"Noooope."

"Alright then Jack." Ianto had smiled, glancing appreciatively at the stage. He took the glass from Jack's hand, put it next to his on the bar, and grasped the front of Jack's shirt. "Let's get a spot on the floor. I'm here with you tonight."

That had been the moment he knew he was in trouble. Because he really liked Ianto. Not just felt attracted to him. Really, genuinely liked his guts and cheekiness, his tidying abilities and humour, and whatever the hell it was about the music that brought this side out of him.

Every Thursday, when Torchwood allowed them, Jack met Ianto at whatever venue he sent to him by email that afternoon, and spent the night listening, trying to find out if any of the music could give him a hint as to just who the whole Ianto Jones was.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry if poor phrasing caused confusion in the last chapter. Ianto certainly did not kiss the musician girl. It was Jack he kissed outside the tourist office. Of course it was Jack. The musician was talented.....but not very attractive. And vs. Jack? Well. Clear winner.

* * *

"Ifan?" There was a knock at the door and Ianto looked up from his guitar. It was Lew's really, but Lew was off with Ainsley, looking at college in Liverpool. If he put it back carefully, Lew wouldn't know that he had been using it.

"Yeah."

He brought one leg up onto the top of his bed. The door pushed open and his father appeared.

"Thought I'd just check in on you. See how you were doing."

Ianto shrugged.

"Alright. Nothing really interesting about my room, so…"

"Can I?" His father gestured at the edge of the bed. The nod he received moved him forwards to sit on the edge. He folded his hands together, arms braced on his knees.

"Have you been doing those exercises they gave you?" Ianto pulled his leg up further, hugging his knee to his chest.

"Yeah. Bit I guess." His father's hand, rough on the fingertips from years of pins and needles, stroked his son's hair.

"Look, I know you aren't very fond of our trips."

Ianto made a protesting noise.

"It's not the trips da, it's just…the destination." Iain looked into his son's face. He was growing up, his youngest one. Ainsley was already at school, and Lewis heading off soon. Just Ianto and Aoife would be left in the house, and they squabbled with each other as much as they got along these days.

At least it would keep the noise level up with two of them gone now. He hated when the house was quiet. Liked the creaking floors of people passing to bedrooms and to the loo in the night. Liked to hear thundering feet down the stairs in the morning when Aoife was late for school, and Ianto's shouts at her from the foyer as he checked his watch in irritation. Liked the racket from Lew's guitar playing and Ainsley's motherly scolding as she pushed Ianto's wild curls into some sort of respectable form.

"I know, kid."

"I liked the theatre show though." Iain had thought that the best way to deal with these trips to Cardiff was to at least connect them with something good. So this time they'd left early, and he'd taken Ianto to the cinema that showed children's features Saturday mornings.

"Me too. Shall we go again next week?"

Ianto nodded.

"I'd like that. If it's alright."

"'Course. Save some pocket money and we'll go in on some sweets even. Don't tell mum though."

"Won't." Ianto grinned.

"Good lad. Lunch'll be ready in a mo, by the way." Iain stroked his son's hair once again. It wouldn't be all too long before he was growing up, taller than him and a wonderfully mouthy teenager. Twelve and his face was starting to lose its childish roundness.

"I'll be down. I have to put the guitar away."

"Hmmm. Haven't I told you to keep out of your brother's things." Ianto shrugged.

"I think so. Probably at some point."

"Cheeky there." Iain pointed a finger at his son, but smiled. "Just make you sure you put it back just where it was."

He shut the door behind him and sighed a bit.

* * *

Down in the kitchen Bethan watched him walk in from her spot near the stove, stirring a pot of soup.

"Alright?"

"Yes. For now." Iain smiled at his wife and kissed her forehead. "Should I do up some toast for the soup then?'


	5. Chapter 5

Apparently I like my Ianto musical.

* * *

Jack lay on the bed, his hands tucked behind his head. His eyes were looking up at the crack that ran halfway across Ianto's bedroom ceiling, but he was focused on sound. The sound of water against glass, inside and outside. It was raining, a dark early spring morning where leftover patches of snow were gravelly and disappearing. And Ianto was in the shower.

They didn't have to go to work, but they had decided last night to go out for lunch. Ianto insisted it was a Saturday brunch really, but Jack didn't set much stock by made up meal times. If you had eggs, it was breakfast, if a sandwich, it was lunch. And if you had an egg sandwich, well, then you just needed to make up your mind.

* * *

It was because of this that Ianto was already up, having slipped out of bed, leaving his pyjama bottoms on the floor along the way. And as much as Jack would have enjoyed a rainy morning in bed, the sounds around him brought an entirely different, though pleasant, type of satisfaction.

Ianto didn't sing in the shower. He sang when he got out. Hummed when he shaved, even though Jack continuously told him it was dangerous. Whistled while he used the blowdryer. But Jack liked it most when he appeared in the bedroom again, a towel around his waist, one end neatly tucked in, singing softly.

Ianto never sang before he left. Not when it was just them, and he wasn't really one to sing in public. But Jack had mentioned something one time, after he'd come back, on the drive to his sister's for Easter. Remembered Ianto's voice from the church at Christmas. Ianto had frowned, flushing a little, and said something about his voice being a bit rubbish, and having a very limited range after the age of thirteen.

Jack had just smiled and murmured that he liked it, still.

About a week after he heard Ianto humming as he shaved in the bathroom. Then whistling. And the singing had begun, stilted and patchy phrases and tunes.

* * *

Ianto left the door open when he was in the shower, and Jack could see shadows flitting through the rectangle of light spreading into the darkened bedroom. He stepped out into the room, a practical dark blue towel around his waist.

"Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly." He moved to the dresser, pulling out the drawer that held boxer shorts and t-shirts. Jack grinned as Ianto hummed the next line without words. The towel moved to the top of the dresser as he pulled on crisp blue shorts and a white shirt.

"Tell me he's lazy, tell me he's slow, tell me I'm crazy…" Ianto paused, taking a pull-over from a drawer. "Baby I know." He wandered over to his closet and grabbed a pair of slacks. "But I can't help…." Jack smiled at the sound of a zipper going up accenting the tune. "Lovin' that man of mine."

Ianto sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other to pull on his sock.

"He can come home…late as can be…" He crossed the other leg. He yanked up the sock, before twisting to look at Jack. "Home without him is no home to me."

Jack grinned, reaching out to grab the front of Ianto's jumper, and pull him down for a kiss.

"Can't help loving your man?" He murmured, smiling against his mouth.

"Wouldn't want to try." Ianto grinned, happy to rest for a few more minutes before their meal. Whatever meal it was.


	6. Chapter 6

A little something from early in Jack and Ianto's relationship. Anyone who can guess the song it's based on gets a personal fic request about the boys.

* * *

Ianto yawned, shifting on the couch in an attempt to find some sort of more comfortable position.

"So you think that Owen ever plays with balloons or anything like that?" Jack posited lazily. Ianto shrugged.

They had been talking together for the past six hours. Six hours of directionless chatting. Because Ianto wouldn't go to sleep. Couldn't go back to his flat and sleep there. Not today. It was two years since Canary Wharf. So he had decided to stay at work, do something, anything, to keep himself up. And Jack had found him sorting paper and binder clips and invited him over to the couch with the offer of a bottle of beer.

Now it was five a.m. and they'd both run out of things to say really.

"I think I'll go power down the hub, and then head off to bed." Jack murmured, standing up and stretching. Ianto glanced at him and only nodded as Jack disappeared down to the control panel.

He was desperate. He'd admit it. He couldn't go home. And couldn't deal with the pity, or the neck pain, that would come from kipping on the couch. As he heard Jack's footsteps fade away, he stood up, straightening out his rucked up pant legs, and climbed his way quietly up to Jack's office. He climbed down the open hatch, and looked at the small room. He felt like he was intruding, but…. He'd slept here before. With Jack. Just the two of them. He still didn't feel like he belonged there though.

He kicked off his shoes, pushing them against the wall, and toed off his socks. And he climbed into the bed. And shut his eyes.

He heard Jack calling out his name for a few moments, before he heard the steps above his head. The clank of boots on the rungs of the ladder made Ianto shut his eyes more tightly, and pretend to sleep. The noises stopped for a moment, and he expected to hear Jack's voice questioning him next. He just wanted Jack there beside him.

He felt the dip in the bed as Jack sat on the far edge. Laces whistled through the eyelets of his boots and the rustle of cloth marked the removal of trousers and shirt. And the weight shifted, moving him slightly closer. He tried to keep his breathing smooth and peaceful as Jack settled beside him. They could share the bed. It wasn't such a big deal.

The waft of cold air from outside the covers his him as Jack flapped the sheet to cover his legs evenly. Ianto couldn't help the shiver that tensed his muscles. Or the way he shifted closer to Jack's heat.

"I'll wake you up in the morning, so you can have time for a shower." Ianto opened his eyes, looking guiltily at Jack.

"Thank you."

And Jack leaned forward, hesitantly. He caught Ianto in a soft kiss that was even a little off target, requiring Ianto to lift his chin to grab at the last bits of contact between their lips. Jack shifted in the bed, reaching over Ianto to pull up the sheets on his side. His arm stayed around his shoulder as he fell into sleep.

* * *

"Morning." Jack's breath was warm and…well…lovely against the back of Ianto's neck. Unexpected and very welcome. Ianto sighed.

"I'll be out in a few minutes." He crawled out of the warm covers and Jack's glow of heat and treaded to the small bath on the opposite side of the room.

* * *

He crawled out of the hatch only to find Tosh and Owen standing next to the desk, clearly waiting to talk to Jack. Ianto coloured. This was awkward.

"I um….just slept here last night. Stayed late to finish work and…."

"You're up then." Jack walked into the office and joined the circle. His hand moved to the base of Ianto's spine, not hindered by a jacket yet. He rubbed a few small circles there. "Feeling alright?"

"Uh, yeah." Ianto shrugged, trying to smile as politely as he could while still turning pink.

"You two are sweet enough to make me ill." Tosh teased.

Jack grinned.

"He just stayed here late for work, and we stayed up talking too late. Thought it best he not go wandering home at all hours of the night, in a state." Jack finished in a murmur that they all still managed to hear.

"What had you in-" Tosh started, then paused. "Oh. I'm sorry Ianto." Ianto had his hands in his pockets now and he just shrugged, looking rather lost. Jack simply gave him a smile and strode around the room, gathering his wallet and coat.

"Well, I'm going to go for a walk on the Plass, pick us up something for breakfast. I'll pick you up something from the café you like, alright babe? If I can find my comm…" Jack kissed Ianto's cheek distractedly as he dug his hands into the pocket of the greatcoat, and then disappeared to the gangway and towards the lift.

Owen turned to tease him at the affectionate term, but stopped when he saw Ianto was surprised at what Jack had said.

He'd let this one slide. For now. Stupid tea boy looked to awkwardly pleased and embarrassed. Too easy a target.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: A little bit of AU. Hope that it tides everyone over as I try and get the next chapter up for "Jonesing". It's coming. Enjoy!

* * *

"Where are you going tonight?"

"Nowhere interesting. Might grab a coffee."

"Yooooooou are lying." She sang. "And you're bad at it."

"I'm not!"

"Then why've you got your rentboy jeans on."

"These aren't rentboy jeans!"

"Are you wearing pants under them? Can you even?"

"What does that have to do with anything!" His ears were a hot red.

"Please. Just admit that you're trying to pull."

"I'm not."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of luv. You haven't been with anyone since Lisa, and you are still a guy. And an attractive one at that."

"You are probably the most embarrassing person ever."

* * *

Ianto leaned nervously against the bar. Tal had been right. He hadn't been with anyone since Lisa, and to be honest, he felt like he didn't have any idea what he was supposed to do right now. The music was fairly decent at least, but all he could do right now was tap his fingers unconsciously against the side of his glass to the beat.

"Excuse me," Ianto didn't glance up as he shifted to let the other person lean up against the bar. He saw the torso turn towards him. "Um. Hiya."

Ianto looked up.

"Sorry, you need more space?" He grabbed his drink, about to move down the bar, but the guy spoke before he got a chance.

"No, I was just- Wondered if you wanted a drink?" His smile was friendly and, well it was cute, if Ianto was honest to himself. He smiled back slightly, but gestured with his glass.

"Just got a full one, thanks though." The guy nodded and swallowed.

"Can I offer a dance instead? Unless you've already got one of those too?"

He wasn't exactly what Ianto would consider his type. A little shorter, blond. But he seemed like a decent bloke. And he was attractive, even if not in the way Ianto usually went for.

Ianto lifted his drink to his lips and tilted the whole of it back.

"Yeah." He dropped the glass back on the bar and followed the boy out to the floor, through a press of people.

"You out here often?"

"No. I….got out of a relationship. Just starting up again I s'pose."

"Cool. I'm Tim."

"Ifan." Ianto replied. He noticed Tim had shifted a little closer, and he didn't mind really. The steady beat of the song was familiar, something he recognized that he could play, had played before. He found his hand moving to Tim's hip, noticed the smile on his face as he pulled him nearer. The other man hummed a bit happily, turning around for a few moments. Oh god. It had been a long time since he'd been near anyone like this. Ianto let his eyes scan over the crowd for a moment. Which was a mistake. His eyes caught on another, high up on the second level, leaning over the railing. Ianto looked away quickly, resting his chin on Tim's shoulder. The other man's hand lifted up and gently stroked down Ianto's cheek, before he turned slightly to look up at him with a teasing grin. The both of them laughed, only shifting their pace slightly as the song blended into another.

Ianto tried not to, but he snuck another look up to the balcony. The eyes were still there and he was accompanied by another now. An almost gaunt face with short blonde hair. Boyfriend, maybe? Suddenly they stopped talking and they were both looking at him. Well. That was probably a bit vain to think. They were looking towards him, and the one with the eyes, really, really nice eyes under his dark, messy fringe, was trying and failing to point discretely. Ianto couldn't help staring.

The blond one rolled his eyes and shoved the dark haired one with his shoulder. They seemed to exchange rude words, though smiling, and the eyes never shifted from the part of the floor Ianto was on.

The blonde nudged again and the other glared at him. Then he looked back. And waved.

Ianto swallowed heavily. Okay.

And then the dark one smiled, just a smirk really, and whispered something into the ear of the blonde. Ianto adjusted his hand on Tim's hip, but when he looked again, the both of them were gone.

Oh. Well. He had a perfectly good dance partner already. So yeah, maybe not the one to go any further, but a decent dancer. And he was getting the impression that Tim felt the same. He wasn't pulling away, but he wasn't initiating any more contact between them.

"Hi." Ianto looked to the side suddenly. The blonde one was there, a somewhat abrasively confident grin on his face. "Mind if I steal your partner away for a bit?"

Ianto wasn't sure what to say. But Tim was. He looked at the blonde with a grin that had more heat than he'd aimed at Ianto all night. But he was still polite.

"Dyou mind Ifan?" Ianto smiled and shook his head.

"Nah, I was about to go get another drink anyways."

"Ta. Thanks for the dance." Tim grinned at him in a friendly way, confirming what he had been thinking, and was pulled away by the impatient blond.

Ianto smiled, with a shake of his head, and moved towards the bar. He could use a glass of water actually. It was getting bloody hot in this place.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he swung around.

"Hi. Thought you might be thirsty." The dark haired one was standing with two bottles of water.

"Oh." Ianto frowned. Had he seriously been waving at him?

"It's just- I saw you dancing, and I thought you were probably a bit hot…..so….." He held out the bottle, shaking it a little side to side. Ianto shrugged and took the offering, nodding his thanks as he cracked it open and took a gulp.

"So…you're a good dancer," Ianto frowned a little.

"What about your boyfriend?"

"What about yours?"

"Not my boyfriend."

"Me either."

"Good. I'm Jack." He shook the hair from over his eyes. They were blue. Bright, and trained on him in a way that made Ianto a little warm in the bottom of his stomach.

"Ianto. Jones." Jack held out his hand, and Ianto shook it firmly. Their fingers lingered slightly as they pulled away.

"Well Jones…could I interest you?" He tipped his head at the dance floor, and Ianto pretended to frown.

"Well. I suppose. Your friend stole my partner, so I suppose it's really the least you could do."

"Cheeky!" Dark-haired, bright eyed Jack reprimanded lightly, but his hand slid against Ianto's back, guiding him forward. Ianto glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, but Jack just smiled back confidently.

Ianto stopped in a pocket of space towards the middle of the dance floor, but Jack just stepped up behind him. Ianto felt his confidence grow at the closeness and reached around to pull Jack's hand to his hip. They started moving, and the music was accented by Jack's commentaries on the others around them, which made Ianto laugh.

Until.

Until Jack's thumb rubbed gently over his hip and Ianto's breath caught as rough skin ran across a bare patch over his hipbone. He couldn't help it. He was feeling the heat of attraction that had been missing with Tim, and he pressed closer. Jack hand slid across his stomach, occasionally brushing against skin under Ianto's wrinkled shirt, to wrap around the opposite hip.

"You know, you were the one who caught my eye out of everyone here." Jack said into his ear, trying to be heard over the loud music. "You looked…almost lonely. Even with your dance partner."

Ianto looked away a little, feeling a bit embarrassed that others could read his need so easily.

"I was wondering…why so sad." Jack continued. "Hoped I'd be able to cheer you up a bit." Ianto let Jack's hand pull him around so they stood close, face to face. "You've got a gorgeous smile." Jack said coaxingly. Ianto tried to roll his eyes, but he couldn't help his mouth turning up a little. Jack seemed to grin in return, especially as Ianto's hand found its way to the back of his neck.

"Thought yours was passable." Ianto murmured, giving a sidelong glance.

"Mmmm." Jack smirked. "I see how it is."

"Do you?" Ianto challenged, and feeling a bit more daring, let both his hands, one on Jack's neck and the other hooking a finger through a beltloop, tug Jack closer.

Jack bit his lip at the friction. He wanted to get the upper hand back. Although he liked that there was a subtle battle for it between him and Ianto.

"And you know," Jack moved in, cheek to cheek, to whisper. "It helped that those jeans you have on were really doing something for you."

He could feel the swallow Ianto took against his own skin, but was surprised by the words that followed.

"They doing anything for you?" Jack pulled back slightly as Ianto's hand slid down the front of his thigh, dangerously close, but still relatively safe. But the implications were heavy in his chest as Jack looked Ianto in the eyes. Oh boy. This one was going to be trouble for him.

Jack leaned in and pressed his mouth to Ianto's, groaning slightly as he bit Jack's lip gently and pulled back. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"What do you think?"


	8. Chapter 8

Jack sat down on the couch and grabbed a magazine off of the coffee table. An auto magazine featuring the newest models of Fiats and Ferraris. They were nice, but they had nothing on some of the roadsters he had seen in the late 50s. The television was on, to some late night show with guests and random chat, maybe some songs, but it couldn't grab his attention.

He looked around the lounge to find something, anything that would pass some time. He stared at the bookcase. His favourite copy of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy was there, in between a dictionary and a university copy of Sophocles.

A creak turned his head towards the door, but it was just the night time settling of an old flat. His foot jiggled impatiently against the rug on the floor. He had actually wanted red, but the rug was a more serviceable navy blue, and machine washable. Which had turned out well when its first night in place found an upturned bowl of soup on it.

He lay down on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. The plaster had creases and grooves that were subtle but showed in the dim light from the lamp beside him. It was strangely soothing to trace the hairline cracks that slipped from corners and away from the seams of the wall.

* * *

Keys grated against the door and fell to the floor with a metallic jangle. They slid back up and fumbled into the lock, twisting both ways before the door opened with a push. Stumbles across the threshold, shoes hitting the wall. A jacket slid down off the doorknob of the closet.

"Eh telediw!" Jack pushed up slightly to see Ianto hanging against the edge of the hall. His cheeks were ruddy. "When you get here?"

"D'know. While ago."

Ianto's steps across the floor wove slightly.

"Let yourself in carwr?"

Jack nodded, sitting up fully. Ianto slopped onto the couch next to him, their limbs overlapping clumsily.

"Hmmmm." Ianto's head lolled back onto Jack's shoulder.

"You had a drink?" Jack glanced over at the empty glass that had a pale ring of gold around the bottom.

"I did."

"Worried what I was up to?" Ianto draped an arm clumsily over his head, stroking Jack's cheek faintly.

"No."

"Some bird asked me home." Ianto's fingers fumbled over his ear and the side of his neck.

"Oh."

"What do you think I said?"

"There might be some guy on my couch, how about yours?"

A snort of laughter. And a yawn.

"Wedi blino." Ianto mumbled.

"You should get changed. How were Mahmet and Tommy?"

"Nah. Just wanna fall asleep with you." He pushed his head into Jack's shoulder with drowsy force.

"Come on Welsh drunkard. You've had quite the night out with the boys."

Jack tried to sit up, but Ianto turned over, laying all his weight on Jack and dragging his lips lazily to his neck.

"Dy Garu di, babe."

Jack smiled. He'd tease Ianto in the morning for calling him babe.

Right now he'd accept the weight and warmth and be thankful.


	9. Chapter 9

"Good morning Janet." Ianto greeted her politely, opening up the window in the cell to pass through her breakfast.

He watched her snuffle and observe him carefully before shuffling forward to take the bowl. Ianto smiled slightly and flipped a sheet over on his clipboard. He hummed as he placed the board on the top shelf of the trolley and moved down the range to pass food into the other cells that were occupied.

It was strangely nice down here in the morning. It was only about half seven, and he still had an hour and a half at least to finish up feeding and maintenance rounds in the cells. It was Ianto's alone time for the day. Which was why he didn't feel any particular need to muzzle himself when whistles and hums turned into quiet singing as he rolled up his cuffs.

"I'm fun, I'm cute, I'm really smart to boot…Ianto Jones, Ianto Joooooones."

Ianto ran a series of check marks down one column and took the service elevator up to the next floor. He pulled the bowls back through the door slots with a grimace and shook out his hand, wiping it on the rough wall.

"I'm clever, I'm fit, I'm soaked with weevil spit…..Ianto Jones, Ianto Jooooones." He stacked the bowls on the second shelf of the trolley and went to push through the far doorway. Except Jack was there. Standing. Staring at him with his hands on his hips.

"Oh. Hello." Ianto tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his embarrassed and amused smile from Jack. Jack grinned and leaned against the door jamb.

"Feeling musical?"

"Just filling the void sir." Ianto wiped his hands off on a towel hung from the trolley handlebar.

"It's a fun little tune you've got there." Ianto rolled his eyes.

"Just a little fictional verse."

"Are you saying reality's actually worse?" Jack's eyebrows jumped humourously at his lazy rhyme. Ianto rolled his eyes in response and moved around to lean against the wall next to Jack. He slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

"Some movie on telly last night when I couldn't sleep. With that Aussie, the one from the 'cowboy romp movie.' It was apparently a catchy tune."

Jack grinned at the nickname he'd given the film, glad it had caught on with at least someone.

"I think I like it myself…..He's perfect, he's quaint, I'll kiss him til he faints, Ianto Jones, Ianto Jones."

"Not your best," Ianto chuckled, glancing sideways at Jack.

"Well, it was that or "I'm handsome, he's fit, we shag til we can't sit….Iant-"

"Yeah, I get it Jack." Ianto laughed and patted Jack's arm to stop him. Jack sent him his most charming grin and they could only stare at each other for a moment.

Jack was the first to move, but it was just a shift, a transfer of weight that moved him closer to Ianto.

"Look, I don't say things like this enough. Not nearly as much as you deserve or I ought to."

Ianto tried to open his mouth, but it closed slowly as Jack brought up his hand to stroke his palm along the edge of Ianto's jaw.

"I'm so lucky to have met you."

"Luv," Jack surged forwards, chest to chest with Ianto. His hands snuck behind, cradling Ianto's neck. Ianto's endearments were….unusual, often very feminine, just because of his romantic history, Jack liked to think, not to do with him.

But they affected him. Heavily. Those words weren't ones you got from random shags or torrid affairs. Not with the heavy, thick tone in them that spoke of steady nights together on the lounge couch in Ianto's flat, and reassuring touches throughout the day.

Jack pressed his forehead against Ianto's, tilting slightly for a kiss.

"Is everything alright telediw? The world not ending?"

"Not right now. Not here." Jack breathed with a smile. "Everything's….just fine."

"Good. Good." Ianto rubbed his hands up and down Jack's sides.

"You're a good man Ianto."

"Good." Ianto squeezed Jack's sides, looking up at him through his lashes. "I always wanted this to be a relationship of equals."

"I hope I can be that for you." Jack's brow furrowed.

"You are." Jack's heard so much certainty in Ianto's voice at that moment that he believed it, almost.

"Come on. Help me finish and I'll go get us some breakfast. We can go eat it on the plass."

"Chocolate croissants!" Jack cried, smiling. "Please!"

Ianto grinned, and hugged Jack tightly for a moment before pulling back.

"You drive a hard bargain. Come on." He patted Jack's shoulder and grabbed the handle of the trolley. "Pterodons don't feed themselves telediw."


End file.
